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by heartburns



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, post s6 n they r back on earth, theyre on a beach, this is just soft and sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-06-08 16:44:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15247521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartburns/pseuds/heartburns
Summary: When Keith drags Lance to the beach in the middle of the night, he’s not sure what he expects. All he knows is that he likes seeing Lance right here, right where he’s meant to be.





	home

**Author's Note:**

> hey omg it’s been a while! enjoy this short lil klance drabble i wrote at three in the morning. please feel free to leave kudos n feedback, they help me grow! love u all <3

The rain surrounds Lance, wraps itself around him, travels down his body and covers every inch of skin.

He laughs then, that beautiful, bright Lance Mcclain laugh. The laugh that brings worlds to their knees and stars to his eyes. He revels in it, lets it roll through him like ocean tide. Droplets fall in his open mouth, but he seems to pay it no mind. 

Lance belongs here, Keith thinks. On Earth, in the rain, at the beach, here. This is where he shines. This is where he’s happy, with sand under his fingernails and sea breeze in his hair. This is Lance’s home.

And God, does home suit him.

Keith’s toes curl deeper in the damp sand; his hair and clothes are soaked to the bone, but he doesn’t care. All he knows is that he’s here, with Lance, and Lance is smiling wider than he’s ever seen. “I know it’s not Varadero,” huffs Keith eventually. “But I figured, you know, something is better than noth—”

“Keith!” sings Lance, dancing around him in circles, kicking sand up with his feet. Keith pouts sourly at the interruption, but Lance doesn’t give him the time to complain. “Seriously? Shut up! This is—it’s—” Lance stops then, breathless, eyes swimming with emotion Keith can’t pinpoint. Water droplets are stuck to his long lashes. “It’s everything I needed right now. I—uh, just… thank you.”

Keith blinks, unsure of how to react or proceed. This Lance, Earth Lance, is uncharted territory; no longer predictable in nature, Lance leaves Keith to solve some sort of puzzle, to relearn him on this new ground. But it’s nice, most times, so he tries for a smile, soft and simple, and apparently it’s enough. Lance grins devilishly in response, grabbing his wrists and pulling him toward the waves with the eagerness of a child on Christmas. “Lance, what are you—!”

“ _Keeeith_ ,” Lance is whining, tugging him farther along until the ocean laps at their ankles. “C’mon! You’re already drenched, what’s the big deal?”

“Fair enough,” he relents, focusing all of his energy into holding in a laugh rather than fighting back. Lance smirks victoriously, and suddenly they’re knee-deep, watching the waves crash and feeling the water engulfing them from every angle.

Suddenly they’re knee-deep, and Keith feels the electricity pumping in his veins. Suddenly they’re knee-deep, and Lance is so impossibly close. Suddenly they’re knee-deep, and Keith feels a set of familiar blue eyes lock onto him.

It becomes significantly more difficult to breathe.

Lance’s hand, slick with rain, slips from its grip on Keith’s wrist down to the ends of his fingers, twining them in with his own. Lance’s fingers are thin and long, but his palms are warm and smooth against Keith’s skin. Keith feels like he’s being pulled in eight hundred different directions, rough sea rushing between his legs and heartbeat roaring in his ears. He swallows, meeting Lance’s gaze in a bolt of hot, white bravery.

What he finds there sends a chill throughout his body, terror mixed so wonderfully with thrill that it renders him speechless. Lance’s eyes are deep and dark and storming and so, so _beautiful_ , pulling Keith in like a magnet and promising to never let him escape. Keith doesn’t think he ever wants to escape, anyway.

“Keith,” whispers Lance, low enough to get lost in the wind. And then slowly, carefully, Lance lifts an arm, resting it on Keith’s shoulder and wrapping warm fingers around his neck, twirling them into the ends of Keith’s hair.

Keith’s knees are turning into liquid. He feels like he could scream, pass out, throw up, die, right here on this beach. But he doesn’t. This is Lance. This is Lance, Keith thinks, as he reaches a tentative hand up to Lance’s face. He swipes at the moisture on his cheekbone with the pad of his thumb, gentle and timid. Lance visibly swallows.

“You know,” he manages to say, attempting nonchalance. “I’ve always wanted to have a romantic kiss at the beach.”

“Have you?” hums Keith as casually as he can, crooked smile curving the corner of his mouth. His palm remains on Lance’s cheek, the fingers of their other hands still interlocked.

And then Lance flicks his eyes down to Keith’s lips, snapping back up to his eyes before it’s considered staring. And it _really_ hits Keith then, what’s happening. What’s going to happen. What he wants to happen _right now_.

It’s with this that he leans forward, allowing himself to crash into Lance like the waves around them. A thousand thoughts flash through his mind, that nagging voice in the back of his head persistent. 

Fortunately, every last bit of apprehension seems to be drowned out by the sound of Lance’s breath hitching in his throat.

Noses brushing, breaths mixing, Keith tugs Lance gently to him, closing that last pesky inch of space between them.

Lance’s lips are soft and warm and steady against his own. Fingers curl further into Keith’s hair, his hands unfurling to wrap around Keith’s waist; Keith’s fly to Lance’s face, so now he’s completely cupping Lance’s face in his hands and he’s kissing him and oh my God, they’re _kissing_. Lance tastes like seasalt and mint gum and strawberry chapstick, and _holy shit_ is it intoxicating.

Rain and ocean surge around them, currents whipping around their knees and droplets falling from their lashes, blending in with the movement of their mouths, with the kiss. But Keith doesn’t _care_ , so madly wrapped up in this feeling of _LanceLanceLance_. He doesn’t know anything else. It’s all-consuming, eating him from the inside out.

The heat pooling in his stomach gives way to fluttering, to fireworks. He feels like exploding, like drowning, like flying. He smiles into Lance’s mouth, and he feels Lance grinning right back.

He’s not sure how long they go on like that, but by the time they pull apart, they’re breathless and puffy-lipped. They don’t go far, foreheads pressed firmly together as Keith wraps both arms fully around Lance’s neck. There’s a million things Lance wants to say, bursting on the tip of his tongue, and Keith knows it. He knows, cherishing those few seconds of silence, urethral, heavenly peace where it’s just them and the sea and nothing else.

“A—uh—a kiss in the rain was also on my bucket list, so, like,” blurts Lance, sounding completely wrecked and drawing a sigh from Keith. “Just killed two birds with one stone, I guess.”

“You drive me up the fucking wall,” Keith tells him flatly, untangling himself from Lance piece by piece. The loss of contact, of warmth, stings absently.

“Maybe so,” he muses, smug grin returning. “But _you_ just kissed _me_. You’re totally into me, Kogane. You can’t even deny it now.”

“Shut up, Lance. You kissed me back,” returns Keith with no real bite because, yeah, it’s a fair point. Lance laughs, free and full, that same sound he made when his toes touched the beach after a lifetime in space.

It’s in these moments; the small, the insignificant. Those split-seconds when Lance is open and palpable and genuine. There’s no bayards, no Lions, no paladins. There’s no forced flirtations or suave performances or fronted facades. There’s no pressure of battle, of war, of death. It’s just Lance, raw and real. And it’s in these moments that he looks _happy_.

Before Keith can be caught admiring him, though, he’s spraying saltwater into Lance’s open mouth, darting away with a shriek—fully aware it’s twelve-year-old behavior but not bringing himself to mind.

“Hey!” Lance squeaks, sputtering. After a brief, momentary recovery, he runs his palms through the water, grinning like a madman. “ _Keith_! Get back here, you son of a bitch!”

Keith lets himself laugh this time, skipping through the current as Lance chases after him.

They’re splashing each other like little kids, screeching and cackling in the storm. Lance catches up to him eventually, but Keith isn’t _really_ trying to run away. Because then Lance is wrapping him up and spinning him around and they’re kissing again, giggling into each other’s mouths like some heterosexual romance movie bullshit. The only difference, though, is that Keith _loves_ every single bit of it, every minute.

This is where Lance is at home. That much is clear.

But maybe, Keith thinks, he can find a home of his own here, too.


End file.
